


I Remember

by iloveitblue



Series: Prompts [229]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:33:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3986740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/pseuds/iloveitblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Clint loses his memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Remember

“Clint.” A voice calls out. It’s a woman’s voice.

He’s vaguely aware that his head is lolling on the pillows underneath. He blinks for a while until his vision clears. He’s inside a room. He thinks maybe it’s a hospital room but he’s pretty sure that hospital rooms weren’t this… empty. 

There’s nothing in the room aside from the bed he’s using and the machines tracking his progress. He sees a door, no windows but there is a vent he could use for his escape if he couldn’t get to the door on time. He doesn’t know why, but those details seem important. 

There are also 5 people inside the room, surrounding him. 1 of them is a woman, with a fiery red hair. There are two big and buff men, both blonds. The other man has glasses, a lab coat and curly black hair, he’s checking over the stats at the end of the bed. The other man, he has a ridiculous goatee and a worried expression that he tries to hide in a scowl.

He knows none of these people.

“Where am I?” He asks them.

They all look at each other except for the woman who keeps her gaze on him. “You’re in Med Bay. Do you remember what happened to you?” She asks him.

“No. Who are you people?” He asks them again even as a sense of worry climbs through him. His gut is telling him that he should leave this place. Escape these people. His gut is telling him that these people are dangerous. Even the one in the lab coat. 

No, that’s wrong. 

 _Especially_  the one in the lab coat.

He tries to remember why that man is dangerous but he can’t. He tries to remember why he thinks they’re all dangerous but there’s nothing. His mind is blank. 

“Clint, I need you to calm down. Your heart is racing.” The man in the lab coat says, walking over to check on the machines. 

Clint. Is that his name? Is that who he is? Why can’t he remember anything, damn it. 

The man takes his hand and he jerks away. The man looks surprised, but doesn’t try again.

“Clint-” The woman starts but he cuts her off.

“I’m not Clint!” He didn’t mean to yell. He’s just scared. It’s a familiar feeling that he knows he isn’t supposed to show. “I’m not Clint.” He repeats, voice smaller now. He’s white knuckling the sheets under his hands and his eyes fall to them. He’s on edge, he knows this. He doesn’t trust these people. 

He looks up back at them one by one and they’re all looking at him with something like pity in their eyes. He doesn’t like it one bit.

The woman tries to touch him, his shoulder, but he bats it away. “Don’t touch me.” He tells her and for a moment, when their eyes lock, she looks hurt by his words. “Please.” She then closes off and she gives him a nod. 

None of them try to touch him again. 

“Do you know your name?” One of the blond guys asks, the one not wearing a cape. 

“You called me Clint. But I don’t know if that’s my name. I can’t remember my name. Why can’t I remember?” He looks up at them all in hopes of finding an answer, but they all still look like they pity him. 

“Amnesia?” The blond guy asks the one in the lab coat. 

“Seems to be.”

“Is it permanent?”

The guy in the lab coat looks at the files in his hands. Scans of his brain and X-rays of various parts of his body. The guy shakes his head, “I don’t think so. It might be just temporary loss of his memories. It might take some time, but the memories will come back.”

“Might?” The man with the goatee asks, “What the hell do you mean ‘might’?”

“It means I’m not sure. I can’t tell for certain. Do you need a dictionary?” The guy in the lab coat hisses. 

The man with the cape holds off the guy in the lab coat, and he feels the tension in the room sky rocket to the roof. 

“Banner.” The guy in the cape says, his tone was probably meant to be calming but it just sounds like a threat. “This is not the time nor the place to lose your temper.”

The man in the lab coat looks at the man with the cape and huffs. He shoves the hand on his chest away and goes back to reading the file.

They all turn to the door when it opens. He can’t see past the woman but he can hear whoever came in talk. “How is he?” The new guy asks.

“He has amnesia.” The woman answers at once. 

Despite everything, he remembers that voice. He can’t remember exact phrases or conversations, but he remembers hearing this voice. He remembers that he likes this voice. He remembers how this voice made him relax. 

And he does. Relax, that is.

The man in the lab coat turns to the machines again and utters a quiet ‘huh’. 

The owner of the voice steps up next to the woman and their eyes meet. He feels like this is the first time he’s seen these eyes, but at the same time he feels like he’s been staring at these eyes for a lot longer. He knows what those eyes look like when this man laughs, or when this man is angry. What they look like when the man is crying. When the man is offering a bland smile.

He remembers all of it but at the same time he doesn’t.

“Clint, do you know who I am?” The man asks. 

He wants to say ‘No, I don’t know you. I don’t even know who I am.’ but he finds that he can’t. There’s something about this man that makes him feel at ease. That he can trust this man. Something that goes beyond his memories.

The man with the goatee looks annoyed. “Give it a break. He-”

“I know who you are.” He says, and they all turn to him again. “I mean, I don’t know your name, but I know that I’m supposed to know you. I know that- that you’re someone important. Someone I once lost. I remember that I feel most at ease when I’m near you. I know that I can trust you. And I don’t even know your name.”

The man gives him a smile, and touches his hand. He doesn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, he clutches on to the man’s hand as if it were a life line. “My name is Phil.”

He shakes his head, disagreeing. “No, I don’t- Coulson. I call you Coulson.” 

The man, Coulson, nods. “Yes. That’s me. Phil Coulson.”

He nods. That sounds right. 

“You’re name is Clint Barton.” He nods again, believing what Phil says. 

“What else do you remember?” The guy in the lab coat asks him. Scribbling away as he does.

“I remember…” He looks at Coulson and gives his hand a squeeze. “I remember your voice. I- remember your laugh. I like making you laugh. I like making you angry too. I know that you like powdered donuts. You have an unhealthy caffeine addiction. I remember looking at you through a scope. And face to face. Even when you don’t look back, I still stare at you. You’re the first person I look for when I enter a room and the last I see before I leave. I remember-” He tries to look for more. Memories that seem far, but he knows are his. “I remember that I’m in love with you.”

Coulson’s breath hitches and he freezes. The others try not to stare at the man, and they mostly fail.

“What else do you remember?” The guy in the lab coat asks again. He turns to him but his gaze lingers on Coulson before he actually looks at the guy.

“I- nothing. Most of it- no, everything I remember involves Coulson.”

The guy in the lab coat sighs. “At least we know he still has parts of his memories. We just need to find the right triggers.” 

“What do you suggest?” The woman asks.

“I suggest that we build around his memories of Coulson. Start there. Trigger memories that involve him. Go from there until he can remember everything.”

He doesn’t listen. He’s focuses instead on Coulson’s hand in his. And his eyes on him. Coulson doesn’t look at him with pity like the others had. He looks at him with quiet happiness, like he wants to say something but can’t. He focuses on his touch and the way Coulson’s thumb circles the skin on his hand.

Clint doesn’t know who he is, or who these people are. But he does know for certain that he’s in love with Phil Coulson.

**Author's Note:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/119601954536/im-so-confused-right-now-whedon-productions)


End file.
